


Natural Neon

by Missy



Category: Adventures of Brisco County Jr.
Genre: F/M, Introspection, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:05:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dixie and sunrise, several years from the conclusion of canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural Neon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for CottonCandy_Bingo, square: Sunshine and Blue Skies

The sky had turned the color of a child’s paintbox, reds and blues bleeding into each other in a watercolor haze. There blonde woman standing under the rainbow sky had no bonnet to shade her burning bright cheeks, and no parasol to properly shade her tanning arms. She looked at home in her lovely gingham blouse, and her blue jeans, washed and smelling of the dirt of the soddy she’d built with her own two hands.

Those poor, poor hands. Dixie eyed them with concern. The likelihood she’d ever get them to be mild, white, rose-scented expressions of her art lay low on the scale of liklihood. Her smile turned wide and filled her face with a golden light not unlike the sun that caressed her cheek. Dixie absolutely didn’t care if they were marked and scarred forever, for they had delivered unto her the most glorious things.

They had remembered how to weed and water a garden and caused the first bit of land she’d bought to thrive. They had hauled sacks of grain to the calving cows and crowning sheep, and then she had helped yank those lives into the cool morning light under Brisco’s watchful eye. They had hammered nails and supervised the installation of the first indoor plumbing in the county. 

And on the weekend they held lace fans hancrafted in the orient, sported black silk gloves, gestured sweetly or bawdily, drawing attention with every move.

Now the sun seemed to touch every scrap of the County-Cousins horsebreeding farm with glorious light. She noticed a tiny puff of smoke curled grey and cool against the creamy sunlight. Her eyes traced it to the rock and brick chimney in the outbuilding that housed Brisco’s office; he and Bowler were likely plotting another bounty, preparing for another few days on the road. Maybe she would shadow them – maybe she would stay behind and light like a robin on the shoulder of the architect she’d hired to construct the world’s first casino and dinner theatre – The Dixie would make its own golden mark in Carson City, though this time it would be arrayed in neon (Dolly be darned – or praised – hmm, it might be worth keeping her as a friend if she did Dixie and Brisco this one favor.)

The sun was an orange-amber shade as she sat down with a cup of coffee and surveyed her domain with queenly pleasure. Yet, even as she soaked in a bit of self-adulation , she knew her truest passion didn’t lie in the sperm and salt of the horsebreeding farm. It was up on that stage in Carson City, entertaining, getting the boys excited for the newest and greatest vaudeville acts around – just as Brisco’s truest home was on the trail, bringing in bounties, serving justice.

Comet nickered in the stable, and she heard the whinny – serving Dixie a reminder as to why she was here. The door to the office opened, her husband emerged, and time stood still. 

Dixie smiled and lounged against the pine rocker they’d made a few days before. There was no need for her to move yet – after all, it was Brisco’s turn to make breakfast.

THE END


End file.
